The Frog Prince
by Peaseblossom313
Summary: The fairy tale from alternating points of view. Please read and review!
1. Prologue

"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind"

- William Shakespeare, _A Midsummer Night's Dream_

"Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha!" The fairy laughed haughtily as she eyed the young man before her. His brownish hair was sticking up in all directions, his golden vest and trousers soiled with mud and who-knows-what. He couldn't see a thing through the cloth tied around his head and was struggling uselessly against the hold of the rope that bound his arms to his sides. A satisfied grin spread across the fairy's scarred and disfigured face. Torturing royalty was so very entertaining.

The prince sniffed the air cautiously, taking in a mild, musty smell that reminded him of sweaty stockings. His bottom was becoming quite numb sitting on the granite floor, not to mention uncomfortably damp. "Pardon me, dear lady," the prince began, "But may I ask where I am exactly?" After his seventeen years, he'd found that being polite usually got him out of the most dreadful situations.

The fairy cackled once more. "You are, Your Highness, in the dungeon of Pansy, The Feared Fairy of Darkness, which happens to be me," she added proudly and with stress on the word "darkness", hoping the prince would be frightened out of his wits. On the contrary, he snorted rather loudly.

"Oh, _Pansy_, is it?" He chuckled. "Well, I am most delighted to meet you. Truly." The Feared Fairy of Darkness clenched her fists. He wasn't supposed to be _delighted_! Why wasn't he cowering before her, pleading to spare his miserable life? Her fury swelled as she thrust a long fingernail at him, magically releasing the blindfold from his head.

The prince blinked several times and took in the dark walls of the chamber, grimacing after noticing the thick slime covering the ground. It was no wonder the seat of his trousers was soaked. He raised his head to face his kidnapper, ready to suggest she mop up the place a bit when a gasp escaped his lips.

There in front of him was a striking sight, robbing him of words. He gaped at the fairy's wild purple hair and fiery eyes, her lacy wings and frosty gown. A violet streak ran across the right side of her pinched face and her entire shape glowed with an eerie sort of light. Pleased with the prince's reaction, her mouth stretched into a grin, exposing glossy teeth.

"Delighted, are you, Your Highness?" She spoke mockingly. "How _kind_. Now that we have been fully introduced to one another, I am afraid I must punish you for ridiculing me so." Remembering his laughter, she tightened her fists again. How dare he laugh at Pansy, The Feared Fairy of Darkness!

"Oh, please leave me be, lady. Do excuse my ill-mannered remarks, as I was only joking," the prince replied smoothly, although he was feeling very apprehensive. Pansy smirked.

"Ha! As if I'd even consider accepting your weak apologies! I planned to punish you anyhow. Why do you think I went through so much trouble to drag you here?"

"Lady, I command you to release me. I am the Prince of Amaranth, therefore you must obey-"

"Enough!" the fairy snapped. She was furious now. Quickly rolling back her filmy sleeves and closing her eyes, Pansy began an incantation.

"Imbecilic sovereign,  
I banish you to the bog,  
You'll never vex me again,  
And forever be a frog."

"No!" the prince shouted, not able to believe what he was hearing. His abductor smiled a twisted smile, then recalled the number one rule for all spells: there must always be a means to break them. She scowled and continued,

"Unless a maiden complies  
Allowing your company,  
Your supper will be of flies,  
Until there are not any."

_That will do it_, she thought. And with a swift wave of her hand, a flash of purple light encircled the Prince of Amaranth, and an awful sensation rushed through him as he watched green cover his body and webbing grow between his fingers. He felt himself being pulled painfully towards the ground, finally shrinking to the size of a frog.


	2. Frog

Frog 

It has only been four days and I am already faring miserably. The pond water is filthy and it sickens me to see the larvae and such floating on the surface. I am still unaccustomed to being in this skin, as it needs to be consistently moist. Moreover, it is strange to be squatting all the time with my hind legs on either side of me. They were awfully sore the first few days.

What's worse, I have become a reject of frog society. This is probably because a few of them saw me attempting to eat a clump of duckweed the other morning instead of the usual dragonflies and midges, which I still haven't dared to try. And I suppose word spread, because none of them will even come near me.

Yesterday, a particularly ugly frog of a greyish color purposely did his business in the small open space between clusters of cattail, my reserved spot for resting at night. On impulse, I stuck my tongue out at him. That un-princely gesture was far from successful, for my new tongue shot out farther than I thought possible and adhered to a nearby tree. I swore I saw the corners of his mouth turn upward as he leaped into the water, and I cursed him silently.

Closing the distance between the trunk and myself, I held my tongue with my hands, a tricky thing to do with webbed fingers. Shutting my eyes and putting my weight on my feet, I leaned back, and miraculously but painfully, my tongue was freed, yet along with a large flake of bark. That took a while longer, and in the end I was full of splinters.


	3. Princess

Princess

I can't _believe_ my daddy! How could he do this to me when he knows that I absolutely _despise_ arithmetic and reading and other such rubbish?

"You must, dear Estelle," he said to me, "All princesses must be educated some, along with the expected lessons on royal etiquette. After all, no king will have an illiterate princess take the throne after he abdicates." He tells me that everyday.

"I needn't be reminded, Daddy," I replied, getting ready to pout. "I know very well what is best for me."

"Then why will you not agree to it? You're fifteen now, Estelle! Before long you will be wed, and accept the duty as queen. I do not wish to leave you unprepared for the task." He was becoming quite exasperated.

I, for one, do not see any purpose for schooling. I'm a _princess_. And I don't want a lady to tutor me! Nothing could possibly be more humiliating.

"I won't," I said defiantly, crossing my arms. Daddy took a large breath, then exhaled.

"Estelle, do listen to me," he pleaded. "I am sure you'll have a splendid time with your tutor."

"No." He sighed, then stood up.

"Very well then. But you will still meet with the tutor. No more will be said."

Fine. I don't care. I shall run away. I shall go far from the castle and stay until he sends a servant to look for me. He'll beg me to come back, and I'll make him promise never to offer such an awful idea ever again. That will show him!


End file.
